Thank you for reading! I hope to hear from some of y'all about these two lovers lol and I promise we get to talk to Jane in ch 38.
See you in two weeks (March 24th). Hoping the longer chapters help make up for the slower updates!
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thirty-seven
lover
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Edward
"So, I gotta know," Bella prompts after she sips her beer. "What was Jasper saying to you earlier when I was waiting by your car?"
"He was just trying to keep up his whole protective brother act," I tell her, stealing some fries from her plate, which she pushes toward me, offering her leftovers.
"Wait, he threatened you again?" she asks, glancing around. She's been doing that occasionally to ensure no one is paying attention to us. But it's dim in this Port Angeles dive bar, and country croons from the digital jukebox, offering privacy from eavesdroppers.
"Not necessarily threatened. Jasper just… he wanted to know if this thing between us was real for me, too," I admit.
Bella watches me from across the booth. "And what did you say?"
"Well, I didn't think how I felt for you was any of his business. So I evaded his question," I say. "I pointed out he expects us to answer his questions when he refuses to do the same, then told him if he wanted to look out for you, he'd be honest about whatever he's hiding."
"Straightforward and sexy," she remarks. "I like your approach."
I smile and drink my beer, keeping the next part of my conversation with Jasper to myself. Not because it's a secret, but I don't want Bella to overthink anymore tonight.
After I told Jasper he needed to be honest, he looked surprised and a little standoffish. But then he said, "I don't want to lose Isa."
"So you think whatever you tell Bella will hurt her more than she already has been?" I asked, eyeing him. "Because I'm not sure that's possible."
"It's not going to make shit easier."
"Easier doesn't mean it's right. And I guarantee you if she finds out what you're hiding—and she will because she's that fucking determined—it's not going to be pretty."
He watched me briefly, then said, "So it is real for you. You care about her."
"Good talk, Jasper." I ignored his accurate assumption, then tossed out, "Think about what I said."
"It's stressing me out that Jane hasn't replied at all," Bella says now, and I reach across the table for her hand.
"I know," I agree, my thumb rubbing soothing circles over hers. "Do you want to try calling your dad again about the necklace?"
"Yeah, but I just had an awful realization," she says, getting further in her head. "What if he heard the podcast episode today and knows you and I are… whatever. Maybe that's why he didn't answer earlier."
"Oh. Shit." Would Garrett Hale be happy to hear that Bella and I are together? Probably not. At least, not before he can hear the truth behind it. "Don't you think he would've contacted you if he had heard?"
"I have no idea. He said he stopped listening to the podcast, but there's always a chance he picked it back up. Or maybe he did hear and doesn't want to bother reaching out because he's disowned me," she mutters. "I keep losing family left and right."
"If your dad's upset with you for interacting with me, he'll understand once he hears you out," I reassure her.
At least, I hope that's true. Bella's a hard person to stay mad at, especially since her heart is in the right place.
"Maybe," she reluctantly agrees, draining her glass. "I'm gonna go outside to call him since it's kind of loud in here."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
She smiles sadly. "Always."
I finish my beer, then gather our plates and empty pint glasses from the table, bussing it myself before we leave. The sky is darker than when we went inside an hour ago, and the wind is angrier with the coming storm. I lead Bella to my car, and we climb inside before she calls her dad on speaker.
"Hey, you. I'm sorry I missed your call earlier. I couldn't find my phone," Garrett says over the line. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," she says cautiously. "Are you at work?"
"Always am," he says lightly.
"Have you talked to Jasper?" she asks.
"Not today. Why? Is he good?"
"Yeah. And you're feeling okay? Everything is fine?"
"Yes. And I'm taking my meds and eating healthy," he sighs, but it sounds like he's smiling.
"Okay, okay. I just have to check. But that's not why I called. This will be random, but do you remember those necklaces you and Mom gave Rosalie and me? She got hers for her seventeenth birthday, and I got mine for my tenth."
"The flowers?"
"Yes! Exactly. I was just wondering where y'all bought them. I wanted to get one for Chelsea, but I want it to match mine. Besties for the resties, you know?"
Garrett laughs. "I don't know if I can help, Is. They were custom-made," he says, and Bella's eyes lock on mine. "I'm sure you could have something similarly designed, but the chains were family heirlooms, and the flowers were handmade by Grandma Swan after y'all were born."
Bella pales. "What? Custom made?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
"If I remember correctly, Mom didn't want to tell y'all they weren't new because Rosie always fought us on wanting the latest trendy item. Mom didn't think y'all would appreciate the family heirloom aspect at that age, but since Grandma Swan wasn't in the best health, we wanted to give them to y'all while she was still around."
"But they came in a box. And had a birthday month blurb with it."
"That was all Katie. Going above and beyond to make it special," he says, his voice tinged with fondness.
"So… so they're one of a kind," she mumbles.
"Yep. Sorry for the twenty-year lie. I kinda forgot about it until you just mentioned it."
"It's okay," she says, her eyes turning glassy. "It's sweet and makes it so special."
There are voices in the background, and Garrett says, "Hey, kiddo, I gotta go. Love you. Talk soon."
"Love you, too." She hangs up and stares at me. "What the fuck? One of a kind?"
"And you're sure you got a good look at the necklace Jessica was wearing?"
"I'd recognize it anywhere," she stresses.
"So the necklace Jessica has is Rosalie's," I confirm. "Either she stole it or…"
"Or what?" Bella asks, desperate for me to have the answer.
"I have no idea."
"I need to get that necklace back. Do I confront Jessica?"
"We could. But what if she doesn't know it's stolen?" I suggest. "She said it was a gift."
"Then she needs to know the truth about where it came from," she insists, then groans, dropping her head in her hands.
"What?" I ask, brushing her arm with my fingers.
She lifts her head to look at me. "I just feel like we're getting thrown off track. Nothing is happening according to plan between Jackson's podcast episode and the necklace. We came here expecting to talk with Jane, but now we're hunting down some ditz for stolen jewelry. Part of me just wants to stop."
I watch her. "No, you don't," I counter. "We've come all this way, and you've gotten this far. We're being productive. We wouldn't have seen Jessica and the necklace if we hadn't randomly gone to the bookstore. So I say we keep doing what we're doing. It's been working so far."
She smiles weakly. "You're right. I just feel defeated."
"You shouldn't, though. Finding out that the necklace is one of a kind is a win. If we found out there were hundreds sold, that would be harder to navigate."
She sighs. "True." Her phone chimes, and she rushes to check it. "Oh, thank fuck. It's Jane," she says, reading it. "She said she's sorry, that one of her kids had food poisoning, and she's been dealing with that."
I wince. "That sucks."
"She's offering to meet up tomorrow around noon, as long as the night goes okay."
"Okay, well, that's promising."
"Yeah." She types quickly. "I'm telling her that works. And if she needs to postpone it, we can, since we're here for a few days."
"Sounds good." I smile softly at her. "Do you feel better now?"
"Honestly? No."
I reach over and squeeze her thigh.
"Well, there isn't much we can do tonight," I say simply. "So maybe we need to take your mind off everything."
I swear her cheeks turn pink. I didn't mean it sexually, but now my head goes there.
"And what are you suggesting?" she asks lightly.
"We could go back inside and grab another beer."
"We could, but at some point, we have to drive an hour back to the bed and breakfast. And I'd like to avoid going out in Forks in case someone recognizes us."
"Fair. We could go to the liquor store, sneak some whiskey past Judy, and unwind in the haunted attic," I suggest.
She hums like she's considering it. "And what if I get possessed by whatever entity lives there?"
"I'll exorcise you, obviously," I deadpan.
She laughs, and I fucking love the sound of her relaxing. "Is that what people call it nowadays?"
I give her a playful, stern look. "Are you making a sexual innuendo involving exorcisms?"
"Too niche?"
"A bit," I laugh. "But it's also very… you."
"Therefore, you love it," she teases, her eyes bright.
"Yeah," I softly agree, my chest feeling funny and warm. "I do."
XXX
"It's so masochistic of me, but I want to look at the comments on Twitter and see what people are saying about Jackson's fake bombshell about us," Bella confesses.
She's sitting cross-legged on the bed, and I'm leaning against the headboard. She drinks from the bottle of whiskey we bought and winces as she swallows.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," I say.
"Oh, I know it's a terrible idea. I used to doom-scroll on Twitter and Reddit for hours, reading theories and whatnot about all of this. It was awful for my mental health."
I frown. "So don't do it."
"But now that this concerns me, the curiosity is killing me. Like, do people believe what Jackson said?"
I can't lie; I'm curious, too.
"One minute of doom-scrolling is all I'll allow," I tell her, taking the bottle from her.
Wind howls outside. The lights have flickered occasionally, but we haven't lost power yet.
She sits beside me, her back against the headboard, and opens Twitter. We both look at her phone and read the latest comments from various strangers on Jackson's original post earlier today.
Wow, shit just got real. I need more! Love this podcast and how it keeps me on my toes!
This podcast is a piece of shit just like the hosts.
Hashtag justiceforRosalie
I knew someone close to Rosalie hurt her. I hope they rot in prison!
This podcast is all over the place with their theories. It's getting a little tiring at this point.
I still have icky vibes from the twin brother. Why would he want nothing to do with finding his sister? So sus!
Waaaaait, this couple is so hot, I ship them. Hashtag EdwardandBella4lyfe
Getting Natural Born Killers vibes from Edward and Bella, and I don't hate it!
Those last four words are punctuated with clapping emojis between them.
"Wow, I hate the internet. I think some people like us?" Bella says, confused. "Which is so creepy because they only know the lies Jackson told them."
"Yeah, our society is fucked," I agree. "Time's up."
"Okay, okay." She closes Twitter. "But we need music," she insists, playing a song I immediately recognize. "If someone would've told me years ago that I would be in Forks with you on a dark and stormy night, I would've told them to fuck off."
I laugh, swigging from the bottle. "Same, but I don't hate it."
"Me either." She smiles softly. "Should we prep what we want to talk to Jane about tomorrow? Or just wing it?"
"Wing it. I'd like to take the night off from all that."
"Okay," she says, humming along with the song. When the chorus starts, she grabs the bottle from me and uses it as a microphone as she jokingly croons, "You know I'm such a fool for you."
I grin. "The Cranberries' number one fan over here."
"Okay, I wouldn't go that far. But this song is so nostalgic for me. Also, you knew this was The Cranberries," she taunts. "So who's the fan now?"
"My mom. She used to play this song all the time."
"My aunt did, too," she says fondly.
The lights flicker for a beat, and the power goes out, leaving us in the dark.
"Shit," I exhale.
I use my phone's flashlight and leave the bed to light the candles Judy gave us earlier in case this happened. I put some on the dresser, the table near the window, and two on the lone nightstand.
The room glows, and I sit back down on the bed.
"Sooo," Bella draws out. "Are you tired?"
"No, are you?"
"No."
We're quiet, and a slower, more romantic song plays.
"What do we do now?" Bella asks, watching me.
Her words feel loaded. Or maybe it's just that everything feels a little more loaded now that the room is dim.
"Do you want to dance?" I ask out of nowhere.
Maybe it's the whiskey, or maybe it's just her. She makes me want to try. She makes me want to do things I don't usually do. Like slow dance in attics and impress her and make her fucking happy.
From the look on her face, she is.
"Yeah, I do," she agrees, getting up and standing in the middle of the room so I won't have to duck.
I stand, too, and move closer to her. We naturally fall into step and press against each other. Her arms link around the back of my neck, and mine lock around her waist.
"Teenage Bella is dying right now," she says, staring up at me affectionately.
I smile a little. "Why?"
"I'm dancing in the candlelight with my crush to 'Fade Into You.' Talk about swoon."
"Right, because you were a teenager in the nineties when this song came out," I say, teasing.
The playful annoyance in her eyes is worth it.
"Shut up," she laughs. "I listened to whatever my aunt played, so I grew up on this stuff."
I hold her tighter. "I guess this is pretty romantic."
"Minus the ghosts," she adds, smiling up at me. I exhale a laugh before we fall silent and sway. "I'm kind of nervous."
"About our paranormal audience?" I joke.
She smiles. "No. You."
"Why?" I murmur.
"Because of how you make me feel. It's a good thing. But it's scary. It's like… you're the one good thing in my life right now."
"That's not true."
"It is. You make me happy," she insists, tipping her chin up to kiss me softly. "Not trying to put pressure on you or anything. But if you break my heart, I will break your legs."
I want to laugh at her dark joke, but I don't want to downplay that she's worried about being hurt.
"Not gonna happen. And I don't feel pressured with you, Bell. Ever. You're the one good thing in my life, too. If anything, I'm putting the pressure on you because outside of work, what else do I have?"
"An absurdly expensive t-shirt collection?" she offers with a cute smile.
"See? Before you, I had to buy my happiness."
She frowns like she feels bad for me. "Did it work?"
"Not even close."
"Well, next time you feel the urge to waste money… indulge in me," she whispers.
It's flirty. Forward. Fucking sexy.
Something shifts in her gaze and makes me feel like she wants this—for me to indulge in her—to happen now.
I'm not sure if she does it or I do, but our swaying slows to a stop. I grab her face with both hands to kiss her. It's soft and tentative at first, but she deepens it. So I kiss her harder. Rougher. Her hands brush my stomach and tug at my shirt, walking us until she falls back onto the mattress and takes me with her.
"Oof," I exhale, and she laughs against my mouth even though I'm crushing her. I lift myself a little, hovering over her. "You good?"
"Mmmhmm." Under me, she shifts her position and then pulls at my shoulders so we're chest to chest again, and I can settle between her open legs. "Are you drunk?" she asks.
"No." I'm feeling good and relaxed but not drunk. "Are you?"
She shakes her head.
We kiss again.
"We don't have to do anything," I murmur, staring down at her. "I don't want you to feel pressured just because the power is out and there's a bed."
She smiles so fucking cute. "I know. Nothing about you makes me feel pressured, I promise." Her fingers brush my lips. "I want this. Don't you?"
She makes me want a lot of things. And not just sexually. Things I haven't yet admitted to myself. Things I never thought I'd have, not because I didn't let myself, but because there wasn't a single person out there who made me want them.
Not like her.
"I do," I agree, capturing her mouth in another kiss. "You set the pace."
"Mmk."
I'm already hard. I've been hard since I kissed her, before she pulled me over to the bed.
We make out, our tongues brushing as I thrust against her, earning a moan.
"You're gonna have to be quiet," I warn.
"Then you're gonna have to be really, really bad in bed," she teases.
I grin. "I'll do my worst."
"Shush," she playfully scolds. "There's no way it can be bad with you."
She's right. There are too many feelings between us for it to be anything but the fucking best. Even if we're in an attic. Even if I have to restrain myself so the nearby guests don't hear.
"Before I get your hopes up, you should know I left my lingerie at home," she says regretfully.
"Me too," I joke. "Doesn't matter, though. You don't need it."
Between kisses, we undress each other. Her shirt, then mine. Her jeans and my pants. I can't unhook her bra, which she finds funny, laughing into my mouth. She sits up to do it for me, tossing it across the room.
"Wait, is the door locked?" she whispers, covering her chest with her arm.
I leave the bed to lock it, then stand near the end of the mattress and take her in—soft skin against rough sheets. Dark hair splayed out. Seductive eyes willing me to join her.
"Can I take those off?" I ask, and she nods, letting me slide off her underwear and see all of her.
Instead of lying back down, I gently tug her ankle so she's at the bottom of the bed and drop to my knees. When I kiss her knee, she gasps. When I kiss higher up her thigh, her gaze turns more heated.
With my eyes on her center, I murmur, "I want to taste you."
"Okay," she whispers.
I put my mouth on her. Soft, wet kisses. Ones that make her moan. Ones that make her hand tangle in my hair. Ones that make me strain in my boxers.
After a minute, she grabs my shoulders, indicating she wants me on the bed. "Come here."
Standing, I step out of my boxers, her eyes immediately on my length.
"You're fucking beautiful," I tell her.
"So are you."
I lie next to her on the bed, grinning. "I'm beautiful?"
"Handsome, hot, deadly attractive," she lists off. "And the crazy thing is, I don't even want you for your looks."
I hum when I kiss her.
We spend time touching, tasting, and making each other groan in pleasure.
With my fingers and tongue, I make her come.
With her mouth, I get so fucking close, way too fucking fast.
I beg her to wait. She says she wants more. And once the word is said aloud, that's all I want, too.
"Fuck," I hiss, lying next to her.
"What?"
"I don't have a condom."
"Maybe Judy does?" she jokes. We laugh, and I kiss her before she asks more seriously, "Do we need one?"
She slides a hand between us and strokes me.
"You can't ask me that while touching me," I growl.
"Why not?"
"Because I'll do anything you wanna fucking do," I hiss, kissing her harder.
She smiles against my mouth. "I'm good if we don't have one. I just want you like crazy."
"Fuck. Me too."
When I hover and grip myself to guide inside of her, I can feel everything.
Slick heat.
Wet warmth.
We sigh and breathe heavily as our bodies move together.
It's tender at first. Learning each other and ensuring she's okay and I'm not too close to finishing.
"You don't have to worry or hold back," she whispers. "We can do it again, and again, and again…"
Our need wins out.
"So fucking good," I grunt, grabbing the headboard above for leverage.
She caresses my jaw and bends her knees to wrap her legs around my waist, letting me go deeper.
"More."
"Bella," I say raggedly, bucking harder. "Goddamn, baby."
I bury my face in her neck, sucking on her soft skin, my teeth gently grazing as her fingers claw at my back.
I want to revel in this feeling, in her, but it's too much. I've never fucking felt like this. I can't even explain it or even know why. Somehow, she voices my exact thoughts, too.
"Never," she pants. "Never felt like this."
"I know."
I'm too close, but I hold back from letting go and slide a hand between us to touch her instead. Deliberate, lazy circles that make her eyes close and her body writhe beneath me.
I want her to come again. I don't know if she can or will, but I want to try.
"Edward," she begs. "Don't stop."
So, I don't. I put so much focus into not stopping and not coming, which feels counterintuitive, but it's all fucking worth it when she clenches around me and lets go again, this time with me buried deep inside of her.
"Oh my god," she moans, her face screwed up in pleasure. "Oh my god."
It's hell holding off until she's done, and she must sense that I'm desperate because she urges me to come, too.
"Where?" I ask, pleading and panicked, still pumping.
"Wherever you want," she coaxes. "I'm okay if you're okay."
"Yeah?"
"Want all of you."
It's all I fucking need. My thrusts turn erratic as I groan out my release, burying my face in her neck again as I come inside of her.
My body goes slack, and we catch our breath for a minute before I roll off of her.
She looks so good. Sated and fucking blissed out.
I pull the blanket over our bodies and hold her from behind.
"Edward Cullen's a cuddler," she muses. "Honestly, it tracks. You are such a loverboy."
"With you, I am." I kiss her shoulder and tickle her side, making her squeal in delighted misery. "You fucking ruined me, Bell."
She turns around to look at me, her eyes burning with affection. "Same."
"Seriously." I search her face. "Never gonna want anyone else."
"Good," she whispers. "Now that we've had sex, can I finally stop acting like I have any chill when it comes to you?"
"You act like you have chill?" I tease.
She laughs in surprise and playfully smacks my chest. "I'd be offended if you weren't right. I'm a crazed person, especially when it comes to you."
I tuck some hair behind her ear before kissing her deeply and making it last.
"Whatever you're feeling, it's mutual," I promise against her lips.
"Careful," she warns. "You're making me feel crazy safe and validated right now."
"Good," I murmur. "That's all I want."
She smiles, and it's so fucking pretty. "Edward Cullen, the king of pillow talk."
"It's not pillow talk," I say seriously, kissing her again. "It's just the truth."